


A Change Would Do Some Good

by musingsofashley



Series: 30 Day Cheesy Tropes Challenge [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Vampire Sam, Vampire Sam Winchester, vampire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 10:18:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2064342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musingsofashley/pseuds/musingsofashley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a hunt gone wrong, Sam gets to experience life with a mouth full of fangs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Change Would Do Some Good

**Author's Note:**

> An idea created for the 30 Day cheesy tropes challenge. I always see Vampire!Dean in abundance, so I wanted to explore Sam having to deal with it instead. I will be writing more at some point, but right now this was a pretty good pausing point.

“Jesus, Dean! Close the damn blinds!”

Sam huddled against the back wall of the motel room, one hand splayed across his face to block his vision from the nonexistent glare of the one street lamp situated at the far end of the parking lot. Dean turned around and stared at his brother incredulously, but when he saw the pale, waxy condition of his brother’s skin, he gritted his teeth and closed the curtains with a rather violent tug. The room was pitched into near darkness, the only lamp currently on covered in Dean’s t-shirt. Sam’s shadow loomed large behind him, lamp light giving the room a horror movie sort of feel as he slowly peeled his fingers away from his sensitive, red rimmed eyes.

“Was it like this for you,” he asked, squinting even in the meager lighting present.

Dean shrugged, tucking his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “From what I am seeing? Just about. Let me guess: your skin is on fire, your mouth hurts like a bitch, you can smell my blood and the people next door and you can probably hear just how fast my heart is beating right now. That about right?”

Sam snorted wearily and let his head thump onto the wall, hair tangled in sweaty coils around his face. "Sounds about right."

Dean sighed and scrubbed a hand across his face, running it through the falling spikes of his gelled hair. He huffed in bitter amusement at himself before dropping down on the edge of the queen next to Sam, elbows resting on his knees and wrists crossed in the empty space between his legs.

"We'll think of something, Sam. There's that cure of Samuel's-"

"That requires the blood of the sire that turned me," Sam snapped, cutting Dean off with a glare. He exhaled slowly, reigning his temper in carefully while clutching fistfuls of the comforter. Through the thin walls of the cheap motel, they could hear the tinkling laughter of a woman and the lower registers of her partner answer back, a note of normalcy in an otherwise surreal situation.

"What do you want me to do, Sam? I know that, alright? We'll wait until tomorrow night, when you got a handle on this thing and-"

Sam sat up abruptly, moving at too quick a speed for Dean to fully track, causing him to stiffen despite himself. Sam noticed and grimaced, but finished adjusting his position and gestured towards the door.

"That vamp, Dean? Is going to be long gone. How the hell are we supposed to find him? He knew _exactly what we were_. He did this on purpose, expecting you to **put me down**."

Sam let his hand drop, picking at his jeans as he shook his head almost helplessly.

"We're not going to find him. It's just that simple."

Dean's head jerked up, eyes narrowed and intent upon his brother's exhausted face.

"Screw that bullshit, Sammy. I don't care if he's long gone. We'll figure something out. We always do. If we can't cure you we'll-"

Dean paused and wiped a trembling hand across his mouth, his brother's gaze burning against the side of his face. 

"We'll think of something. Hell, we'll pull a Lenore if we have to, okay? But I swear to you right now, Sammy. I am **not** putting you down. I can't."

Sam looked away, frown lines etched deeply into his face. Dean reached out and laid one calloused hand on Sam's right ankle that was peeking out from beneath his frayed jeans.

"Don't ask it of me, man. I'm begging you, on this one. Let's just sleep on it and we'll deal with this tomorrow."

Sam closed his eyes and sighed heavily, shoulders slumping beneath the emotional weight. 

"Alright. It'll be you doing the sleeping, though, until the sun rises. I feel like I've chugged a ton of energy drinks. I don't think I could shut down even if I tried."

Dean squeezed the ankle still under his hand and sat back, pasting on his ever cocky grin.

"Well, geek boy. You always love that research shit. Get cracking and dig up some info. Scope the area for some decent food while you're at it. This place better have somewhere that serves some freaking pie."

Sam snorted and rolled his eyes, tossing one of the pillows propped behind him at his brother's face. It was a testament to how unnerved he was, though, that he was soon standing and rooting around for his laptop, muttering under his breath details about vampire lore that he still remembered from before. Dean's cocky smile faded while Sam's back was turned and once more ran a hand through his hair, gripping a fistful of strands tightly and pulling until his scalp was sparking with dull throbs of pain. Unable to help and drained from the events of the past twenty four hours, he kicked off his boots and shoved his way under the comforter and sheets of the bed, rolling onto his side in order to face the door. In the morning, he told himself. He'd deal with everything then.


End file.
